


The Letters

by FightMilk



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Dad stuff, Gen, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 01:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6218119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FightMilk/pseuds/FightMilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Made a backstory for one of the confessions in the Gang Goes to Hell Part Two.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Letters

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the sloppy editing. That will be fixed.

Fucking letters.  
First, it was twice a month.  
Then once a week.  
Then twice a week.

At first Dennis read the letters. Luther wanted money, drugs, favors. It was almost the same every time. But as the weeks went on they get more frequent and more pushy.

Eventually Dennis couldn't handle reading them anymore. They filled him with an uncomfortable guilt, mostly because he wasn't used to feeling guilty. The rest was from hurting someone he actually came close to caring about. No, he did care about him. But hurting him was easier. Better for both parties, Dennis would tell himself. He was always a good liar.

So he would lie when Mac asked if there was any mail for him, stuffing the scraps of paper into the trash can when he wasn't looking. He lied about why he always got the mail--something about a some sleazy magazine subscription. But really he would fold the letter and slip it into his front pocket (Mac would notice is something was in his back pocket). And later when he was alone he would hold the letter too hard, crumpling it beneath his bony fingers. Then he would tear it. One big tear at first. Then stack them and tear again. Repeat until the paper is too thick to rip. Hide it underneath some other trash. It was a ritual, cleansing, almost religious. He was offering up a sacrifice.

Over the next few years the letters got more sporadic. They were shorter and more vague, not that the early ones had been works of poetry. You could see how Luther was beginning to let go of caring. Now he only sent letters twice a year. The sacrifice had been accepted.

  
It was the last letter that came. One line.

"I won't be writing anymore."

Dennis could only sigh in relief. This was a special letter. It deserved a bigger destruction.  
Something more exciting at least. After an hour or so of deliberation Dennis decided the easiest yet most satisfying way to get rid of it would be to burn it in the sink.

It took hours to get rid of the smell.

Now Dennis checked the mail simply out of habit. Mac had lost his hope for a reply a long time ago. So as long as Luther was in jail he wouldn't have to deal with Mac's daddy issues so often.

It was easier to control this. To control Mac. To control himself. Perfect, total control.


End file.
